


The Tribute

by Thesecretwriter123



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Collars, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesecretwriter123/pseuds/Thesecretwriter123
Summary: Boba Fett is given a gift he doesn't expect
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 7
Kudos: 189





	The Tribute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaermorons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorons/gifts).



Tatooine was, weird. To say the least. Everyone knew it, it was a widely accepted thing but no matter how prepared you thought you where something always managed to surprise you. 

Case in point, the mandalorian honor guard who had showed up at the palace a few weeks after the takeover. He hadn't expected them, Jango's brief stint as Manda'lor aside, the Fett name wasn't a particularly memorable one as far as Mandalorian's where concerned, he may be a famous bounty hunter, but he hadn't thought of the planet or its people since the death of his father and the glassing of the planet. He supposed the joy of potentially seeing another of their strange dysphoria made it possible for others to convene here. 

They were a strange lot though, all of them painted in the various colours except one, the one in the center, dressed in all silver, pure beskar. The way they treated him too was odd, he never spoke, was never asked to input anything, he just stood there while their leader prattled on, but he was clearly important. He was contemplating it, when a move from the warriors in front of him drew his attention. 

The honor guard parted smoothly as one, and the silver mandalorian moved to kneel in front of the throne gracefully for someone clothed in as much beskar as he. One of the blue painted warriors spoke, "we give him to you, as a token of our friendship and good faith. He is obedient to a fault, and will obey only you." Boba got the distinct impression she was smirking, under her mask. "Take off his helm and he will be sworn to you. He is trained in all manner of things, and will serve you gratefully." 

"You mean to offer me a bodyguard? A servant?" He questioned harshly. "A spy?" 

The blue one spoke again, with that same smirking tone, condescending, as if he was missing a clear thing. "We won't want him back." 

They had left soon after, the silver mandalorian kneeling in front of the throne, silent. He removed his helmet, bringing his hand up to rub over his eyes, sighing. "Do you have a name then, mandalorian?" 

"My name is whatever you want it to be, Master." The silver man spoke, his voice coming from the vocoder despite him never moving himself. At this Boba frowned. 

"Exactly what are you here for? To serve me?" The man raised his head at this, nodding up at him. 

"Serve me then." He had meant to suggest a guard, or maybe a bounty hunter, many mandalorians including him had turned to this work after the civil wars, but before he could get the words out the man in front of him had shifted closer, between his thighs, skilled hands moving up up up beneath his robe to grasp at his underclothes so fast Boba's head spun. He stood with a shout, drawing the attention of the court and knocking the silver mandalorian down the steps to sprawl onto the floor. 

"What are you playing at?" He shouted, descending the steps until he stood, towering over the mandalorian. Something was wrong, the other man was a warrior, strong muscles and a beskar spear apparent but the man made no move to defend himself. 

"Forgive me Master! I didn't know! In private perhaps?" At Boba's shocked stare he seemed to tremble beneath him. "Please I can be so good for you! Don't punish me yet!" 

Boba recoiled at the sour scent curling into the air. Omega. Secondary genders where rare, after the civil wars and the fall of the Empire. Boba himself was an Alpha, they were more common. Omegas thought, he'd never met one, let alone had one presented to him. What was the mandalorian covert playing at? "Im not going to hurt you." He held his hands up, moving slowly now, telegraphing he wasn't a threat. The other man scrambled back onto his knees, bowing his head in submission. 

"It's your right to hurt me, if you wish." He spoke in a way like he had been taught, it was horrible but he seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. "I should not have spoken out of turn earlier." He fell silent, the unease apparent. The entire court seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for Boba's next move. 

"We're not doing this here." He sighed, annoyed but not at the man in front of him. "On your feet. Follow me." 

He brought the omega to his private section of the palace, but not his bedroom. He didn't want the omega to spook or get the wrong idea. They where in one of his meeting rooms. Boba immediately sunk into an armchair with a sigh. "Sit down." He gestured to the other, preoccupied with removing his helmet. "Not there!" He had to quickly exclaim, noticing the mandalorian starting to sink to his knees in front of Boba. "You don't have to do that, you know that right? Your free now. I won't keep a slave." 

The man tilted his visor, staring up at him. "I am here to serve." He murmured, glancing down again. "I don't know anything else." 

Boba sighed, not liking this at all. "Look why don't I show you your rooms, you can get whatever you want from the kitchen, get some sleep and we can talk about this in the morning when we've both calmed down a bit?" 

"I don't understand. I'm supposed to stay with you, serve you." 

Boba sighed, "Come with me." He strode out of the room, moving down the hall until he stopped at a door. "This is for you, there's a proper water shower and everything, a bed and closet. We'll get you some clothes and things tomorrow." He had noticed the mandalorian carried nothing with him, save the beskar spear and a small satchel. "The kitchen is down the hall, take whatever you want. My room is right across the hall if you need anything. Tomorrow we'll talk, and you can tell me your name." The man just stared at him through the visor. "What is it?" 

"I don't know what to do." The man's voice cracked, the careful measured tone slipping for the first time. "Please… tell me what to do." 


End file.
